


His Dinosaur Named Stella

by compo67



Series: Chicago Verse [41]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blankets, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Established Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Established Relationship, Fluff, Lazy Mornings, Lazy Sex, M/M, Mild Smut, Post-Series, Silly Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-21
Updated: 2014-09-21
Packaged: 2018-02-18 06:44:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2338967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/compo67/pseuds/compo67
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A lazy Sunday between the boys is enjoyed, with hot chocolate and dinosaurs mixed in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	His Dinosaur Named Stella

**Author's Note:**

> Art at the end!

Lazy days in Chicago are typically spurred on by the weather.

Fall arrives with gloomy days. The sun might come out for five minutes, creating false hope, followed by thunderstorms that last all afternoon. Today, the weather has remained gray and cold. Rain seems to be in the near future, but everyone in Chicago knows that the only liars more full of shit than politicians are the weathermen.

Will it rain in an hour?

Who knows?

Who cares?

There is no place to be. Urgency is determined by bathroom breaks and the pull of naps in between movies. Breakfast is cold pizza leftovers. Lunch is reheated tomato soup taken out of the freezer, served with the comment that tomato soup always freezes well, alongside a crispy, melty grilled cheese. Requests for more are answered without grumbles. The afternoon starts off with Porky's, Porky's II, and Garden State. Very few negative comments are made about Garden State. A nap occurs. Someone wakes up. They decide that naps are meant to be long. Another hour passes.

By four, a tray of snacks is brought over. All this work means they need to keep up their strength. The sun comes out for two minutes while they eat s'mores. Crumbs are wiped off of each other--one wearing a Henley, the other in cotton. Red socks kick gray socks as they fight for rights to the warmest blanket. It's not cold enough to turn the heat on, but cold enough to bring out the large, fleece blanket with the tiger print on it that was given to both of them for a Christmas present two years ago. Every time this blanket makes an appearance, there is an argument.

The sun ducks back behind the clouds. Cocoa is made for clarity and calm. Marshmallows in one mug, cinnamon in both. A truce is declared. Jurassic Park is selected as the next movie, and a new position on the couch is selected, one that allows both to enjoy the blanket. No one says anything about it, once it happens, but it's comfortable and warm. They never start out this way; they always have to argue to get here. Isn't that the truth of things.

One red sock nudges a gray sock. The gray sock responds that the message has been received. By the first glimpse of a brontosaurus, a hand snakes down and slips into plaid pajama pants. Movements  here take their time. The red sock's toes curl. Small, breathy gasps are made. An ear is pressed to the Henley and the accelerated heart beat underneath is measured. Beat by beat. Stroke by stroke.

A kiss is pressed against three-day stubble that's coming in red, like the socks.

That kiss turns into something deeper. Lips are captured. A baby raptor is born. Cinnamon and chocolate are sighed back and forth. Sweet. Rough. Hungry. Sweet. Sweet. Sweet.

Hips are rocked together. The same sneaky hand clasps long fingers around the both of them. Red socks roll over the gray socks despite protests about the knee. Freckles are counted. One, two, three, infinity. Every muscle converges. No one looks away. The blanket is pulled up and around them like a tent. In this heated space, their breath mingles. Twist. Grind. Push.

Gray socks buck. He comes first. That's the way red socks prefers it.

Plush lips seal themselves over slick lips that are beginning to bruise. Momentum picks up. Brows furrow. Green eyes close. Every sound is breathed in, eaten up, devoured completely.

A brief shuffle is made back to their new position. Long, messy hair sprawls over the Henley. The blanket is adjusted and the mess between them is ignored. Whatever. It can wait.

The appearance of the T-Rex is cheered. Someone falls asleep but is woken up when the raptors attack the vents in the computer room. As the T-Rex defeats the raptors, she is declared the best character in the entire movie. She eats a goat, a lawyer, and some raptors--plus she saves the annoying humans. Who could ask for more? Really, she wasn't trying to eat Jeff Goldblum, she was just messing with him. Inside, she's a real sweetheart.

Another nap will happen before dinner. There are leftovers to heat up.

Outside, more clouds gather. The first patters of rain against the sidewalk can be heard.

Let it rain.

"Sammy, clone me a T-Rex."

They've got time and nowhere to be.

"Sure, Dean."

"A big one."

"Yuh huh."

"I'll name it Stella."

"Kay."

"Yeah."

"Mm."

Red socks falls asleep first, dreaming of his pet dinosaur named Stella.

Gray socks hopes it doesn't eat a certain lawyer.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I had so much fun with this. XD 
> 
> I had to leave for work two seconds after I uploaded this. -_- But! I got to draw a little something for this anyway. <3


End file.
